


10g

by luausoup



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:22:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luausoup/pseuds/luausoup
Summary: Settling into family life with the Farmer has been a huge shift for Sam. One morning, he receives a sweet dose of nostalgia, reminding him how how much his life has changed since living at home - he never was much of a morning person.
Relationships: Sam/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Sam/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 45





	10g

**Author's Note:**

> after being a longtime lurker and reading so many awesome stories, i decided to put pen to paper and write something about this sunshine boy whom i adore. it started as a fluffy idea in my head and when i started writing it turned into whatever this is. so i thought, why not just throw it into the world un-beta'd 
> 
> major respect to all of you who put so much love into these works for us to read. here's to hoping i can contribute a verse! all feedback is appreciated!

Sam cracks one reluctant eye open, overwhelmed by the morning light rudely breaking through the windows of his bedroom. Content in the warmth the blankets offered, a bleary-eyed Sam rolls over, beginning to battle an insistent inner monologue begging for “ _five more minutes, Mom_." 

It’s a beat until he remembers he is not in his childhood bedroom.

Sam glances to his right at the neatly fixed sheets and pillows the Farmer had left in her stead as she took on her morning chores. After all, _there were crops to be watered, animals to be pet, a new day to take on_ , she would say with energy unfit for this hour of the day. 

Yoba knows how he’d ended up happily married to such an early riser.

Gone were the mornings of counting the bricks on the wall from the bed of his room at Willow Lane, bracing himself for the day ahead. Sam feels his thoughts threatening to be flooded with repressed memories of soul-sucking shifts at Joja, only made bearable by active attempts to drown them out with good music when he could get away with it.

The music playing in his headphones would bring him to another world, far away from Morris and the seemingly endless cans of Joja-brand ham.

Some days, he would close his eyes with his mop in hand, relishing in the way the beat of the music would course through him, sometimes even finding the beginnings of his own melodies through the mundanity of his job.

Walking home and finally sitting on the step outside his house after his shift, he would look out to the river, attempting to corral in his racing thoughts. Sure, he was content with his life - Mom did her best to make sure of that. It was just something about shock in the way the fresh air felt compared to the frigid Joja temperatures that really got his wheels turning.

Sam’s leg would shake as he contemplated the weight of his Dad’s prolonged absence, the lingering responsibility of trying to be the best man he could possibly be for Vincent. He felt like a little boy and a grown man squeezed into one body. 

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to life than working part-time for Joja and living at home? And then there was the band. Their songs were never quite coming together. Shouldn’t his life be beginning? This was his reality. And his racing mind would really trip him up sometimes.

Sam shudders at the unwelcome memory, batting away the heaviness that had snuck in. After all, things had only looked up since the Farmer moved to town. 

Eyes melting closed, he was filled with warmth thinking about their family and the life they had built together. _It all led here,_ he thought, feeling sleep overtake him once more. 

***

_He was on stage again with The Pelicans. Sam glances over at Seb on his left, meticulous and intense with his keys. Abby was on his right, beats driving them forward with her contagious spunky energy. They were in the zone, and they all knew it. He looked out into the sea of adoring fans, only able to focus on one face. He sets his guitar aside, preparing to stage dive wh-_

Sam wakes once again, unwillingly pulled from his slumber. He lets out a groan at the loss of what was an epic dream, eyes fuzzy. Instead of a rooster as it is most days, the culprit of his stirring was...a synth-pop beat? 

Sam would know that song anywhere - he wrote it after all. A fluttering feeling of recognition and nostalgia rushes through him as he takes a moment to soak in his past musical choices. 

_Hell yeah, that bass line was **spicy** , _he thought.

Sam smiles to himself before grasping the reality of this situation - why in Yoba’s sweet name would this song be playing?

Forcing himself out of the warmth of the bed with a yawn, he walks into the hallway, stopping in his tracks at the sight before him. 

The Farmer and their young daughter were dancing around the room, without a care in the world. Sam chuckles to himself at the realization that his daughter had most certainly gotten her sense of rhythm from her mother. While the Farmer could will any seed to grow and was tough as nails with a sword, her talent in the music and rhythm department left room to be desired - not that he minded. 

Sam was pulled out of his thoughts by the Farmer’s voice as they danced, sweet as honey, “This is your Dad’s song, sweetie." Sam was not able to hear her response but witnessed the joy on his daughter’s face as she was twirled in the air by the Farmer. 

A silent observer, Sam felt his cheeks begin to warm, overcome with emotion at the sight in front of him as he walked into the room.

The Farmer looked up, blushing as she noticed Sam’s presence. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead. You hungry?” she asked, as their daughter ran to hug him around the legs. 

“Always. You know me, babe," Sam responded with a grin, “Sorry to interrupt your dance party. Haven’t heard that song in a while,” he said as he lifted the young girl up. 

The Farmer grinned at the sweet sight of the two together, moving to fix Sam a plate of pancakes. 

“You know, I wrote that song for your Mommy. She helped out a lot with my band when it was first starting,” Sam explained to their daughter.

“The band with Uncle Seb and Aunt Abby?" she replied with wide eyes. 

Nodding, Sam kisses the top of her head. "I'll tell you a secret though," he says in a hushed voice, "I think I like your dance moves the most." 

"Then you should dance with us, Daddy”, his daughter replies, beaming with pride. "That would make them even better!" 

Never willing to pass up an opportunity to dance, Sam bows his head, a fantastical “ _May I have this dance_ ,” leaving his lips before lifting his daughter's feet on his own, ballroom dancing around the room despite the pop beat blaring from the speakers. 

Sam’s eyes meet the Farmer’s, whose lips turned up in a soft smile. He tilts his head, beckoning her to join them.

The happy trio held hands as they danced to their hearts’ content, smiles plastered on their faces as their laughter filled the air. 

*** 

“Guess her dance card’s all filled up?” Sam joked as the Farmer joined him on the couch after tucking their now-exhausted daughter in for her midday nap. 

The Farmer snorted softly in response. “It was quite the dance party. You know, that demo cassette might’ve been some of the best 10g I’ve spent."

“I can’t believe you still have that after all these years,” Sam said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 

"I had to do something to remember that night! I didn't tell you at the time, but seeing you up on that stage doing your thing got me all hot and bothered,” the Farmer said with a saucy look as she snuggled up to him.

“Could you say I was the band’s first groupie?” she continued with a sparkle in her eye.

“Ha-ha. Well if you must know…” the Farmer playfully swatted him on the shoulder in response. 

“Of course I kept it, that night was huge for you. Something about the way you performed just made you shine brighter, somehow - like everything was clicking into place", she says.

"And besides, I've always believed in your music, ever since that first time I barged into your jam session with Seb. Remember? I wanted to bring you the Joja Cola I’d just fished out of the river. You asked me what kind of music I liked," the Farmer reminisces with a dreamy smile on her face. 

“You’re telling me that can of pop came from the bottom of the river?" Sam said, eyes wide with false shock. 

The Farmer playfully crinkles her nose at Sam, lovingly playing with the blue pendant he always wore around his neck. 

Sam feels an overwhelming sense of adoration wash over him, racing mind for once quieted by a sense of belonging at this moment at her encouragement. She was right, something about music did help it all click into place. 

“Maybe I oughta pull the old guitar out of its case one of these days,” he says. “You are my muse after all," placing a kiss on the Farmer’s forehead. "Got any more river pop to help me get the creativity going?"

The Farmer shoots at Sam incredulous look before erupting into unbridled laughter. 

_There's that joy_ , Sam thinks as he smiles to himself, recognizing in his wife's eyes the very same joy he had felt when he locked eyes with the only person he could focus on that night of the gig in Zuzu City all those years ago. 

_It had all led here._

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was inspired by the mini-jukebox item. i just loved that you could play any of the in-game songs in your house. also, the farmer and sam bantering about pop vs. soda is essentially canon for me. thanks for reading!


End file.
